


Not all that is Lost is Gone

by momma_66



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: Family, Gen, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-19
Updated: 2013-08-19
Packaged: 2017-12-24 00:53:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/933190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/momma_66/pseuds/momma_66
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bilbo is only suppose to watch his young nephew for a two weeks while Drogo and Primula enjoy a quiet vacation.  When tragedy strikes Bilbo has to accept it will be much longer than that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not all that is Lost is Gone

**Author's Note:**

> This is a small piece to what was going to be an amazing (to me) Modern AU fic that I had been working on for months. I lost all the work (including hundreds of thousands of words in other WIPs) when I lost my computer in a fire. I'm posting this now months after the fact because I've started to accept the fact that I lost all my work. Pretty much this is me, posting the only thing left from nearly 20 years worth of writing, as a way of hopefully moving on and finally start writing again. And who knows maybe y'all will love this and it will inspire me again. I don't know.

By the end of the second week Frodo was being incorrigible. He wanted his mommy and daddy back and nothing Uncle Bilbo did was enough for the four year old. Bilbo was finally able to collapse into Drogo's most comfortable chair in his study and pack a pipe. It wasn't the leaf he had smoked in college, but it was what Drogo had lying around and tonight Bilbo was not going to be picky. He was counting down on his fingers the hours until Drogo and Primula would be home. Frodo too, Bilbo suspected. 

He and the boy had been getting on just fine, but once Bilbo realized he couldn't be the "Fun Uncle" every minute Frodo had decided listening to him wasn't a concern. Frodo Baggins was as Tookish as any Took could ever be. Much like Bilbo, who couldn't remember participating but had been told enough times, Frodo discovered climbing the library stacks. He found the dumbwaiter that had once went from kitchen to the second floor dining hall. Frodo discovered how to hoist himself up from the inside. And it wasn't like Frodo didn't learn where to not push any farther. Bilbo's reaction to finding the young lad inside the elevator had frighten them both. He felt a bone aching need to apologize to his mother and father. The moment Drogo walked through that door he was going to hug his brother. All the times when Bilbo was just Frodo's age doing much of the same things. He'd never tease Drogo for the silver threading his curly hair again.

There was a knock to the front doors. Bilbo sighed, putting his pipe to the side; what was another few minutes. He made his way slowly to the door, the hour wasn't terribly late but he did wonder who would come calling after eight-thirty on a week night. The knock sounded again just as Bilbo lied his hand on the handle. It was sharper this time, urgent. "Who is it?"

"It is your Uncle Gandalf!" Bilbo startled, they had not been expecting Gandalf.

"Uncle," Bilbo pulled the door open. "What are – ?" The words caught in Bilbo's throat. He had seen that look, ten years before when Drogo had unexpectedly shown up at their family's manor. "No."

Gandalf wasn't an uncle in any sense other than Bilbo's mother and Gandalf had been long-time friends. Belladonna Took studied under Gandalf in the years while Bungo courted her. Many of the Sackville-Baggins claimed "that ruddy – _wanderer_ " was half-most the reason Belladonna was as un-Baggins as one could get. Bilbo had known the professor for as long as he could remember. He wanted to think that he'd never have to see that sadness in Gandalf's eyes again, not like when Bilbo's mother had died.

"There was an accident, my dear nephew." Gandalf stepped his way carefully into the foyer; Bilbo didn't have the power to be hospitable. "There was a tree across the road."

Bilbo tried to swallow, bile rising in his throat. Bag End was set away from other homes in their community and the last house on the road the came up the hill. It was a dead end just after their drive. Bilbo tried to think over it, when the last time him and Frodo had ventured out of the house. With the storming and Frodo's general displeasure in the last week they had confined themselves to the house. Bilbo had even given Hamfast the week off because no good gardening could be done in the rain.

"Bilbo?" Gandalf was holding his shoulders, shaking him gently.

"You haven't told me how bad it is," It's not what Bilbo thinks to say, but once it is said he can think of nothing else. Gandalf's arms circling him in a bone-crushing hug was enough to understand what his uncle could not say.

~

He cried most of the night. Gandalf retired to the rooms that were kept for him when he visit; giving Bilbo some much needed space. When morning came and Bilbo heard Frodo's small feet on the landing, stomping down, knowing his mother and father should be there. It took every inch of his respectable Baggins-ness to pull himself together and wipe uselessly at his face. Bilbo couldn't erase the tear stains and blood shot eyes. He couldn't make the defeated slump of his shoulders disappear. What he could do was tell his too young nephew that his mother and father would not be coming home. Ever again. He could pull himself together enough to tell Frodo without crying anew. He would be strong for his little nephew, because no one should have to go through this at Frodo's age. Bilbo carefully did not think about how eerily similar the night he lost his parents and the night he finds out his brother and sister-in-law are gone forever.

"Mommy! Daddy!" Frodo shouted. His over-size feet, a hobbit trait, thumped on the stairs. Bilbo had deliberated on when and how to tell Frodo. Accosting the young lad in bed was instantly thrown out; he didn't want every time he lied down to be a reminder of this conversation. 

"Frodo," A walk had been decided in the wee morning hours as the sun had lit across the east windows. "Come here, boy." Frodo met him in the kitchen, his blue eyes full of question. "Lets take a walk, Frodo." Bilbo held out his hand and Frodo didn't hesitate to take it. The yard behind the manor sprawled out from the back porch. A beautiful garden and neatly trimmed yard that gave way to forest. There was still dew on the grass where the shade kept it cool. Silently, still trying to gather his own thoughts, Bilbo led them toward the end of their property where a bench sat under a large weeping willow. Maybe Frodo would find solace under its protecting limb.

"Where are they Unka Bilbo? They were 'pose to be home." Frodo snuggled into Bilbo's side. His voice already watery. "Are they stuck at the airport? We can go get'em." Bilbo wrapped his arms around his nephew's shoulders and pulled him close. He stroked his soft curls, so much like his fathers.

"Oh, my dear sweet Frodo." Bilbo kissed his crown. "Mommy and Daddy, they had to go... They had to go – " He cursed himself for not being able to say it without choking up. It was enough though, Frodo buried his face in Bilbo's shirt and wept freely. "I'm here, Frodo. I am here. I love you." Bilbo wasn't sure later all that he whispered.

Much later when they were both cried-out and Frodo was asleep on Bilbo's lap Gandalf joined them under the willow. "I can't do this," Bilbo whispered. "I can't take care of a four year old. Until I moved back to Bag End I was barely taking care of myself. And I might clean up after myself and know my way around a kitchen. Primula did the washing and Bungo helped with gardening and maintenance. Two weeks and those Sackville-Bagginses will be knocking down the door demanding a stake in the manor. Two after that and I'll be so in over my head with Frodo. He's to start school this year. He has doctor appointments, and – and – Uncle Gandalf." Bagginses were a smaller bunch and it was no surprise the Gandalf was able to encompass both Baggins boys in his arms.

"Do you know what Drogo said to me the night your parents died?" Bilbo shook his head. The Baggins men didn't speak much of those months right after their parents deaths. "He said that he had no idea how to take care of a teenager. He worried that he would fail, he worried that you would rebel." Gandalf squeezed Bilbo a little tighter. "He said that even if he blundered about all he could do was his best, and his best was modeled of Bungo and Bungo was the best father any Baggins could ask for. So Drogo believed that as long as he took care of you in the fashion of your father then he could not fail." There was a long silence as Bilbo thought on Gandalf's words. "And," his voice was halting, "if you decide you can not – "

"I can." Bilbo would not fathom any other Baggins or Took taking care of Frodo. He was Bilbo's responsibility now; he would do unto the boy as Drogo had for him. "If I can be half the father Bungo and Drogo were I can not fail either." There was kiss to Bilbo's crown. Frodo stirred but Bilbo hushed him, not wanting the boy to have to wake from his peace-filled dream just yet. "Sleep Frodo, Uncle Bilbo is here."

**Author's Note:**

> So there it is. Even after all this time I am still super proud of it. And I came up with the title two minutes before posting. It is more an overall way I have to view things now and not actually anything the story would have been called.


End file.
